


The Ballad of Lance Armstrong

by KeyholeCat



Category: Dangan Ronpa
Genre: Gen, Pre-Despair, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-04
Updated: 2013-09-04
Packaged: 2017-12-25 14:02:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/953964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KeyholeCat/pseuds/KeyholeCat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A lazy afternoon during which the gang tries to convince Hagakure that, yes, it IS possible to be multi-talented, everyone yells at Leon, and Junko may or may not have produced a corpse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Ballad of Lance Armstrong

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks 2 [Rachel](http://archiveofourown.org/users/skaboy/pseuds/skaboy) for the prompt and stuff. UuU

The wind carried many smells and sounds that day. The floral aromas which wafted around Naegi shifted as he passed different beds of different blossoms. Along with the pad of his feet upon the grass, he could hear a dog barking from the end of its leash, the ring of a bicycle’s bell, and the soothing, ambient music of… a ukulele?

As he searched for the music’s source, he spotted none other than Yasuhiro Hagakure with instrument in hand and one leg propped up on the seat of a picnic bench. Several of his classmates were gathered around him and lying in the grass, sitting at the bench, or slung across each other’s laps. A few of them noticed Naegi approaching and waved.

“Super High-School Level Ukulele player, huh?” he joked.

Hagakure stopped playing and laughed, running a hand through his tangled dreds. “Nah, dude, I ain’t even playing. See, I got this little guy from a pawn shop my buddy runs. Told me it was possessed by the spirit of the greatest ukulele player in history, Lance Armstrong. It plays itself, ‘right?”

“That’s funny, I didn’t realize he’d passed away,” muttered Kirigiri.

“Wha-? Lance Armstrong doesn’t play the ukulele!” Kuwata exclaimed. “He’s just a bicyclist!”

“More importantly,” said Asahina, her legs draped over Oogami’s, “a possessed ukulele? Are you sure you’re not just, you know, playing it yourself?”

“Nah, man! You could probably play it as well as I can if you tried! It’s the spirit of the strings that guides you, get it?” He thrust the instrument towards the swimmer. “Here, you try it!”

“Fine, I will!” She started by plucking a few strings, then abruptly started strumming violently and haphazardly. The result was positively cacophonic. Naegi grit his teeth, trying with all his might not to shield his ears from the offending sound waves. Other classmates were not so polite. In the distance, he thought he heard a screech that sounded suspiciously like Fukawa, followed by a shout from Togami.

“Hey, that sounds pretty good!” said a voice from behind. Naegi turned to see Enoshima approaching with a wry smile. She was followed closely by her sister, Ikusaba.

“Why the hell did you bring that stupid thing, anyway? I told you we’re starting a punk band, not somestupid fucking artsy indie bullshit trash!” Kuwata bellowed.

Hagakure cradled the artifact in his slender hands. “Hey, man, this is all I got! Besides, it ain’t a great idea to insult stuff like this. Spirits are pretty sensitive, ‘right? You might hurt his feelings!” He started to pluck at the strings tenderly again. “There, there, dude, no wonder you wouldn’t play for ‘Hina-chi. I’m the only one here qualified to be a medium, ‘right?”

“I thought you were fearful of spirits and ghosts, Hagakure,” Oogami said softly.

“Ahh, you guys don’t know anything about this kind of stuff.” To everyone’s horror, a garbled, out-of-key wail erupted from his throat. “Possessiooooon… is not the saaaaame…. as hauntiiiiing! Ooooh baby…”

“Don’t quit your day job, sweetheart,” Enoshima sneered.

“I don’t know, I think he sounds pretty good! With the ukulele, I mean,” Maizono argued.

“Whatever, man,” Kuwata growled. “Did anyone else bring something to play? Something, I don’t know, _not for babies_?”

Maizono clapped her hands together with excitement. “Oh, I brought a keyboard! I can play piano fairly well, is that okay?”

“Maybe, maybe,” he said, tugging at his beard in thought. “It would be ideal if we could get a guitar player, a bass player, and a drummer.”

“I have some traditional drums at my home…” Oogami began.

“That’ll do!”

“...but I’m afraid that we may not use them, even if any of us had the ability to play them. They are ancient heirlooms, as I understand it.”

“Then why’d you bring it up? Man, hasn’t anyone got _anything_ useful?”

Suddenly, Hagakure gave a triumphant shout. “Oh! Dude, I totally forgot, I’ve got this enchanted kazoo on me, too.” He pulled out an ordinary, albeit slightly chewed up kazoo from his backpack.

“Enchanted, you say?” asked Yamada, intrigued. “How much magicka does it take to play it?”

Hagakure laughed heartily. “No magic, dude! See, I got it from the same guy who gave me the ukulele, ‘right? This one plays itself, too, but only I can use it. Here, listen.” He hummed an unfamiliar tune through the tiny instrument. It sounded just like any other kazoo to Naegi.

The shaman continued to play until it was suddenly snatched from his lips by a nearly-rabid Enoshima, who proclaimed, “Anyone can play a kazoo, idiot! It’s a goddamn kid’s toy! Hell, I bet even Mukuro-chan could play it!” She unceremoniously shoved it into Ikusaba’s hands, which were already waiting dutifully. She held the instrument up as if to play, but hesitated before putting it to her lips, instead choosing to stare at it blankly. Enoshima scowled and tapped her foot. “Hey, what’s the holdup? Scared of germs or something?”

“I, uh. Don’t know what to play.” At this, Enoshima released a tortured groan, extending her arms towards the sky theatrically.

“Give it here, give it here, I would like to try it,” pleaded Yamada. Ikusaba gratefully passed the kazoo to him. He began to play what Naegi guessed was supposed to be Cruel Angel’s Thesis  before moving onto more obscure themes.

“Whoa! Yama’-chi, I didn’t know you were attuned to the vibrations of the ancient satyr lords!”

Yamada stopped playing and held the kazoo aloft in a gesture of victory. “Of course I am! They even made me blood-kin in my last Dungeons and Dragons campaign!”

“So… you mean to tell me… that not _one_ of you can play the guitar?” Kuwata exploded.

“I’m not sure why you expected that from any of us. Why don’t you talk to Mioda-san? I’m certain she’d be happy to join your band,” suggested Kirigiri.

“Wha--? I real Super High-School Level musician? No way, I don’t wanna get outshined! This is my band we’re talking about!”

“ _Your_ band? You mean this is just a scam to make you look good?” Asahina fumed.

Enoshima chuckled behind ruby fingernails. “It’s gonna take more than that, pal! Have you considered shopping at somewhere other than Hot Topic? Try Goodwill, I think I saw some fashions that are a few years more in-style than what you’ve got.”

“I don’t believe this,” Kuwata growled. “I called you guys here because I thought we could do something cool together, and this is the thanks I get?”

“Come on, Naegi-kun.” Kirigiri had suddenly appeared at Naegi’s side. She nodded towards something over his shoulder. “I think I see a body over there.”

“Oh, sure.” He did a mental double take. “Wait, what? A-are you serious? Kirigiri-san, I think we should call the police--” But she was already walking briskly away from the group. Naegi sighed and shuffled after her as Fujisaki explained the functions of a music program she’d designed to a downcast Kuwata and Enoshima gave an enthusiastic “Wasn’t me!”

**Author's Note:**

> Kirigiri takes Naegi to an alley and Naegi goes "wait where's the body" and she says "it's me" and they make out.


End file.
